525 600
by thrillifying
Summary: "No day but today." RENT AU.
1. Act I, Scene I

**Disclaimer: **RENT is the wonderful creation of Jonathan Larson, as Les Miserables is that of Cameron Mackintosh, Claude-Michel Schonberg, and Alain Boubil.

* * *

Act I, Scene I

**Tune Up #1  
Voicemail #1  
Tune Up#2  
**

_From here on in I shoot without a script  
See if anything comes of it  
Instead of my old shit _

* * *

When Ferre opened his first gift, the one his sister all the way in Scarsdale mailed him, his eyes widened and he looked like a little kid entering Disneyland for the first time. His roommate, Gabe, had to bite his lip to keep from laughing when he excitedly and carefully took the 16mm Bolex out of it's box, practically jumping with joy.

He immediately started tinkering with it, ready to use it. He hadn't owned a camera this good ever since he moved to Brooklyn, they've been dirt broke ever since. As their usual toast proclaimed, _We're hungry and frozen! _to which is roommate replied with a cleverly crafted rhyme: _Some life that we've chosen!_

While he set up his Bolex, his roommate was intent on finishing a speech. The usual things he wrote about; revolution, anarchy, justice. He had a 'performance' later tonight at the tent city next to their apartment building, along with another friend of theirs. _Had he even eaten yet? _Ferre wondered this, it passed by his mind quickly as he read the description on the box.

_The Bolex is the 16mm film camera of choice for the film student and avant-garde filmmaker alike. In addition to its relatively small size, the Bolex is powered by a spring-wound motor, which makes it highly portable. We have a wide range of prime lenses available, as well as three Angenieux zoom lenses. We also have a large selection of filters and accessories that take advantage of the Bolex's potential for creativity._

He would've let out a squeal of happiness but he knew that if he did, Gabe would never let him live it down.

He carefully pulled out the camera, and carefully placed it on top of their table, as if it were a precious jewel that would break any second, just by touching the counter. Next, he got the instruction manual, and started reading, following each instruction precisely. He wasn't going to break this camera, it was the best one he's had in years.

Finally, he heard a click. He grinned to himself, rather mischievously. He aimed the lens at the wonderful view their 'crapartment' had, the one thing that made up for the shitty quality of their living area.

"December 24th! 9pm, Eastern Standard Time!" he proclaimed, "From here on in, I shoot without a script." He was still grinning broadly, like at any moment he could explode into a thousand little Ferres, which would of course, be hell for Gabe. Speaking of him...

The next thing the anarchist knew, the camera was aimed at him. The camera panned on his Apollo-istic face, with blonde curls and striking blue eyes. He wore his favorite red jacket, and ink blotches stained his fingers from writing his speech. He had a scowl on his face. Most women found him to be extraordinarily handsome, but Gabe never gave them much mind. Ferre himself gave up all hope on his roommate's love life, and stopped trying to set him up with a girl.

"Viewers, presenting Gabriel Enjolras! He's the only son to wealthy Upper East Siders, Enjolras family. Right now, he could be chilling in the Hamptons with his parents and sister, but instead he's here with me in our little apartment because he decided to play revolutionary." he said, with a kind of effect to his voice, trying to sound a bit like a voiceover.

Gabe was torn between either laughing or glaring at his roommate; he chose the latter. He looked up and tried pushing the camera away, and Ferre looked absolutely horrified somebody tried hurting his 'baby'. Still, Gabe managed to steal the camera from him. He didn't know how to zoom out, so the view was directly Ferre's face. He was smiling though annoyed, too happy about the gift not to, showing dimples that were quite frankly, adorable as his sister said. He had messy brown hair and brown eyes framed by glasses; he always wore a scarf to keep the cold out, and sometimes even did despite it being scorching hot.

"_Viewers,_" Gabe attempted to mock his weird voice-over tone, but failed. "Time to meet your _brilliant_ director!" he said, "This is Ferre, his real name's Ferris but he hates it and insists we all call him Ferre. He dropped out of a Philosophy course in NYU, and decided to pursue his dream of becoming a filmmaker. Recently he broke up with–"

Thankfully, the phone rang to stop him from completing that sentence. Ferre's face was already red with embarrassment, and made a note to never attempt to film his roommate again lest this happen once more.

Gabe was smirking triumphantly. Despite Ferre's instant reaction to throttle him, he smiled at this. Ever since the end of the April-era, he's turned from Apollo to marble statue. It was a nice sight to see him display some sort of emotion.

He grinned at their answering tone. It was cool, in his opinion, and it had been his idea to use it. The familiar sound of their voices played.

_SPEEEEEAAAK!_

He smiled, but it soon faded once he heard the voice on the other side of the line. "Ferre? Are you there? I don't even know if this is working! That was a very loud beep!" He bit his lip. "It's mom!"

At this, he groaned in annoyance. "Did you get Cindy's gift? Isn't it so thoughtful of her?" Like the rest of his life, favoritism towards his sister was clearly and blatantly expressed. "Ferry, we miss you here. You're all the way in Brooklyn, and it's Christmas tomorrow, sweetie! Have you ever thought of coming home? We miss you!" she hesitated, and then continued talking. "I'm also really sorry to hear about your break-up with Faye, she was such a nice girl too bad–"

In one swift move, the message was promptly deleted.

It was a while before the phone started ringing again, Gabe was already _in the zone_ and Ferre was busy giving the viewers a tour of their crapartment. They let the answering machine get it again.

_SPEEEEEAAAK!_

"I'm back!" The voice shouted, and while Ferre's eyes lit up with joy, Gabe banged his head on the desk he was writing his speech on. "Did you miss your dear, _dear_, friend?" Gabe hastily walked to the phone and picked it up.

"No." he answered, simply and coldly. Ferre rolled his eyes playfully and turned off his camera, setting it carefully on his spot of the couch.

"Gabe answered the phone?

The sound he could hear on the other line was nothing but laughter, which of course made Gabe let out a sigh of exasperation and return to his work. "Now it's _me_. Don't mind Apollo." Ferre said, "I'm expecting a wild night ahead of me?"

"Bring Apollo along with you." the voice replied, "God knows he needs it." Ferre nodded even though he couldn't see him. "Now throw down the key!"

Rob Grant was their friend and roommate. He was a professor at NYU, by far the most successful out of all of them. He had curly black hair topped by his favorite red beanie and blue eyes. He arrived post-April, but became a vital part of their little family nonetheless. He had a bit of a drinking problem, but the only one who _really_ minded was Gabe. Rob idolized his Apollo, but it was clear that Gabe thought him to be nothing but an annoyance.

The phone was still held to his ear while he was looking for the key, when he heard a scuffle-type of sound and Rob's muffled voice on the other line. "Rob? Hey, you okay?"

Silence.

He rushed to the view the apartment had, their tiny little balcony and found the telephone in the booth hanging by its cord, with nobody inside. Of course, he panicked. He rushed to grab a coat, ready to look for his friend.

Gabe was eating, finally, but he spared Ferre a quizzical and questioning look. Ferre assured him it was nothing, just thankful that he was eating his first meal of the day at 9pm. In his rush, his glasses fell off the bridge of his nose. Ferre rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed, and bent down to pick them up, in a rush. The phone rang again, but this time, they didn't let the machine get it. Ferre picked it up and held it to his left ear.

"Ho, ho, ho!" The person had an unmistakeable voice.

Ferre's eyes widened, and covered the speech input part of the phone. "It's Marcus!" he whisper-shouted to his roommate. Gabe's eyes narrowed and darted to the ground, and his food went back to being ignored.

"Shit!" he cursed. He ran over and put the phone on loudspeaker, as Marcus continued talking.

Marcus Pontmercy used to be their friend. He, Gabe, Marius and Faye had lived together, until Marius got a girlfriend. Her name was Nicolette Levant, but liked to be called Colette for short, and she was the daughter of their landlord. Ferre had no idea whether he genuinely loved Colette, or if he just sold out by marrying her and joining the Manhattan elite. He moved out soon after, his spot was taken by Rob and everything was going fine between the five of them. As his friends, he promised that they wouldn't have to pay rent, or at least, not so expensively.

He lied.

"Guys, I'm on my way!" he said in a cheerful tone, "I need the rent."

Gabe glared at the phone. "Great," he muttered sarcastically, then in a louder voice; "What rent?"

Marcus replied quickly. "This past year's which I let slide!" he said as if it were pretty obvious, and of course, it was. Ferre could almost imagine him driving to the dingy little building, fixing his brown hair, determination in his grey eyes. The very thought of him made Ferre want to puke. He wasn't their friend anymore.

"You said we were golden!" Ferre protested, "When you bought the building, when we were roommates? Remember?"

"How could I forget..." Marcus muttered in reply, "Point is, _mon amis_, rent is due. If you don't pay, then I'll have to evict you." Gabe scowled, though he had never liked Marcus in the first place, it still irked him that someone who used to be their friend ended up having to say that sentence to them. "Be there in a while." The line was cut, majority of electricity in their apartment followed suit.

_The power blows._

* * *

_Up__ Next_

**RENT**  
**You Okay Honey?**

* * *

**Author's Note: **This is the first in my series of AU's, which will feature characters from Les Miz in different musicals we all know and love. I don't know whether to start on my next one already, and have alternating updates for this and the other or to wait until I finish this. Your thoughts?

I hope you like this. I'm a big Mizzie and RENThead, and the thought of Enjolras, Combeferre, Grantaire and the others in a RENT universe was very, very excitifying for me. :) You can still read this if you haven't watched RENT though!

This is my first fic, so I'm hoping that I'm doing something right. Please, review and tell me how to improve! Can I hope for around, seven reviews maybe for this chapter? Maybe more? Reviews are my inspiration! They make me want to update!

Oh and since I'm new here, I'm thrillifying. Pleased to meet you. :)


	2. Act I, Scene II

**Disclaimer: **RENT is the wonderful creation of Jonathan Larson, as Les Miserables is that of Cameron Mackintosh, Claude-Michel Schonberg, and Alain Boubil.

* * *

Act I, Scene II

**RENT  
You Okay Honey?**

_How do you document real life?  
When real life's getting more like fiction each day?_

* * *

"_Shit._"

Gabriel cursed. This was so typical of Marcus, cutting off the power on Christmas Eve. Wasn't it enough that he and Ferre were living in some stupid, crappy loft on the corner of 11th Street and Avenue B? What was he going to do next? Take down the barbed wire in the tent city? He never liked the boy in the first place, he came to them one day and started talking about the most amazing girl, then he married her and just stopped being their friend. It was as simple as that.

"Nice Christmas gift!" Ferre shouted to nobody in particular. He had to admit he was confused when his roommate, hastily ran out of the room and came back with a matchbox. It was a brilliant idea to light a candle, but Ferre obviously thought that a candle wouldn't be enough. He got the trash bin, lit a match, and dropped it in like it was no big deal.

The fire wasn't strong enough, but he could see the flames reflecting in Ferre's eyes. "Gabe, hand me the screenplay." He scowled, sure that everyone called him Gabe just to spite him because honestly, in his opinion, it was a stupid nickname. Despite his resistance, it stuck. He obliged and went over to Ferre's tiny desk.

"Which one?" he called from the corner of the room.

"All of them!" Ferre shouted back, "I'm done shooting with a script!"

_That explains why he's being an annoying prick, filming me while I'm working... _Gabe muttered, picking up a pile and handing it to Ferre who quickly dropped it in the fire. He saw a grin on his face that quite honestly freaked him out a bit, and he almost opened his mouth to remind his roommate that they were throwing his old movies into the fire and that they weren't killing Batman.

"Look at the situation we're in, Gabe." he said quietly, "How the hell am I supposed to document real life when it's getting more and more like fiction?" he asked.

Gabriel looked out the window to see people lighting fire to their eviction notices and chuckled. "This is reality." he replied, "Everyone else is in a similar situation! There are worse problems though. How are we gonna pay rent?"

* * *

"Jenna, I think I'm going to throw up."

The words sounded, coming from the other end of the telephone. The girl in question continued inspecting her nails in the cab she was in, coming home from work. Faye was great, really, but seriously. She hasn't eaten since breakfast. "Did you eat?" she asked.

"How's the production going?" she asked in return.

"Don't change the subject, Faye."

* * *

Rob coughed in the alley, why he was still living in New York was beyond him. Everywhere, every time, each night was just Trick or Treat, and it's almost always Trick. "Well this was a nice welcome back to town..." he muttered, putting a hand over his nose to check if it was bleeding.

_Fuck_, everything was turning a murky shade of brown, his head just kept on hurting and this time it was far worse than the worst hangover he could possibly remember. He couldn't think. It hurt his head too much.

"I need a drink." he mumbled.

* * *

Marcus pressed his cellphone to his ear. "Nicolette, what's wrong? You sound sad."

The muffled reply came. "It's our anniversary today,"

"Anniversary of what?"

"The first time I laid eyes on you. Not to mention _Christmas Eve_."

Marcus immediately felt guilty. "I'm really sorry, _cherie_, but I honestly can't believe those two after everything I've done! Ever since our wedding, I'm just yuppie scum–"

"And you're not, my dear." she said, her sweet voice coming from the other end of the line. "Besides, you have me, remember? I promise I'll _always _be there for you, Marcus. No matter what. They'll see! You can help them all out eventually."

He smiled. "I'll be back in a while, Colette, I need to collect the rent." he said,

"I love you."

Marcus hesitated. "I love you too."

* * *

"How's the digital display going?" Faye asked again, pressing the subject.

She could practically feel Jenna hesitate through the phone. "There may have been one _teeny, tiny spark_." she admitted, and the diva rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, Faye, I got a engineer. He'll fix it, promise. And you won't–"

Faye sighed. "I'm calling Ferre."

"It's not like I'm a theatre person." Jenna defended herself hastily, "You know I could never be one. But seriously, this engineer guy, he's gonna fix this, you won't need to call–"

In a click, the line was disconnected, and Faye dialed another number.

* * *

Ferre's cellphone rang and Gabe's eyebrow quirked up in curiosity.

"Hello? Faye?" he asked, and Gabriel nearly started laughing. "Your equipment won't work?" Gabe could imagine Faye, pouting and calling his best friend _pookie_. Just a second after, Ferre was already complaining, glancing at him first then making it seem like he was annoyed. "Okay, alright! I'll go!"

Gabe just smirked at him, and Ferre in a moment of childishness stuck his tongue out at the anarchist. He looked out the window and saw Marcus' familiar black range rover pulling up next to the building. They both scowled.

"Use your camera to spar." Gabe said to his roommate, smiling slightly as Ferre started filming the scene before them, and he tossed the contents of the trash bin down to the pavement, out the window.

"We're not gonna pay!" The shout came from the apartment below them, and Gabe looked down to see a big pair of brown eyes looking up at him. The girl had long dark brown hair, and a small smirk across her face as she dropped her eviction notice, the flames falling with it, but she didn't mind it that much. She was looking at _him _and she was pretty.

Hesitantly, he smiled back, turned his back and left.

The thought of April flashed through his mind once. He couldn't leave the past behind, it just kept finding ways back to his heart, reaching down deep inside and tears you apart inside out. _That's poetic. _He thought to himself.

Still, there was _something special_ about her hair in the moonlight.

* * *

"Power's back on!" Gabe's voice rang through the crapartment.

Ferre grinned happily, wanting to wait a while before he went to look for Rob. He wanted to see his footage first, and although he knew it was a bit selfish to watch film-gold for a while, he knew that Rob could take care of himself. With all the times he'd gotten mind-blowing drunk, he probably knew what to do with all his crazy hangovers, most were stories that would never be mentioned again.

Then, the phone rang. He picked it up, hoping it to be his roommate, but this time did groan when he heard Marcus' voice. "You're lucky I can't make it tonight." he said. "You know, sometimes you just need to draw a line and make a stand."

"Car catch fire?" Ferre smirked when he didn't reply. "I don't understand, dude. I mean we used to be friends! We'd hang out at the Musain, we lived together–"

"Of course I remember. You, me, Gabe and Faye. Speaking of which, where's the drama queen? Still her production manager?"

"Two days ago I got fired." he replied.

"You still dating her?"

"Last week I was dumped."

Gabe raised an eyebrow from across the room, walked over and put Marcus on loud speaker. "She's in love!" he proclaimed, making Ferre scowl. This was probably revenge for filming him. Ferre face palmed.

"Not surprised, knowing her." he said, and it was true. Courtney Faye kissed, flirted and slept with anything that moved. Sadly, one day Gabe introduced them to his friend Ferre, and she found him adorable, stringing him into her web. He moved in with them. "She got a new guy?" Marcus asked.

"Well–no." Ferre replied, his face turning red. A small smile started spreading across Gabe's face, and for once, Ferre kind of wished he went back to being the emotionless statue that he almost always was.

"What's his name?" Marcus teased, and for a split second, it kind of felt like they were all friends again, hanging out in the Musain with fellow Bohemians.

Ferre took in a deep breath. "Jenna."

When Marcus started laughing, he hung up, glaring at the phone.

* * *

Ella liked drumming.

It wasn't like she was a professional, she didn't need to take lessons or anything. It was just fun, she could carry a beat, and she used to do it all the time when she was younger, using pencils and books. At least she didn't have to resort to her sister's job either, who she hasn't seen in years, and people pitied her ragged and dirty appearance as she drummed away on her little corner.

Someone pressed a dime to the top of her makeshift drum, which was really just an old bucket.

"Merry Christmas." she said as the stranger walked away, and she continued her drumming on the bucket with the drumsticks her sister bought her for her seventh birthday, which was such a long time ago. Eleven years. She smiled at the memory and resumed drumming.

_Bum bum badadadadadadum. _Repeat.

She kept the simple beat, until she heard a coughing sound coming from the alley next to the phone booth she was drumming in the area of. She picked up her bucket, threw her sticks inside and walked over. She could stop drumming for tonight, after all, today was a very productive day. Her hand instinctively flew to the pocket in her silly outfit, making sure the cash she earned was still there.

She saw a man in the alley. It was dark, and she could barely make out his face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You okay, honey?" she asked, as the man let out another cough. She noticed a tiny gleam of blood on his face. She was familiar enough with wounds to help heal him, maybe she could bring him to her group. They would help for sure. "They get any money?"

"Had none to get." he muttered back, "They stole my coat." She helped him up, despite her incredibly petite figure. "Thanks."

"It's Christmas Eve." she replied simply.

Once they got out of the dark alley, he could see her face better. She had short black hair cut messily a bit above her shoulders, he wouldn't be surprised if she did it herself. Her eyes were a dark, swampy green color and she was smiling at him, showing small dimples in her cheeks. But what struck him most was how the light, both from lampposts and the moon made it look like she had a halo atop her head. "God sent me a guardian angel."

The girl chuckled. "An angel?" she asked, amused.

"_My _angel." he corrected, a smirk appearing on his face when he saw the pink tint her cheeks. "You're cute when you blush."

Of course, this only made her face get even redder. "I have a life support meeting at nine-thirty." she offered, "I could help you there, I bet they have a bandage for your knee or something."

He nodded. "Life support?"

She looked down at the ground immediately. "For people with AIDS. People like me." she said, "You don't have to go if you don't want to. I mean–"

"No, it's perfectly fine, it's the same with me." he admitted, "But I shouldn't be telling all this to a stranger. My name is Rob. And you are?"

"Ella." she replied, "Ella Schunardiér."

Ella. What a perfect name for his angel.

* * *

_Up__ Next_

**Tune Up #3**  
**One Song Glory  
Light My Candle**

* * *

**Author's Note**: The first hour I uploaded this story, I had 35 visitors and 0 reviews. I love reviews, please give them to me. I only got three last chapter. I mean, I know I'm a new author and that I shouldn't be hoarding reviews like this, but they're just so addicting. I even have this goal that one day this fic will get recommended. Thank you to _**SleepingwithinWater**_, **_YouthfulSarcasm_**, _**The Mutant Jinx **_and _**Eponine T. Daee **_for their wonderful reviews.

I am pleased with myself that I could combine Schunard and Thenardiér. Update for the confusion: Angel is Azelma. :)

I am not updating so easily next time, I updated simply because I already had this chapter written out and _needed _to post it. If you love this fic and want me to update it, you will review.

Everyone who reviews gets an excerpt of the next chapter!

Your humble servant,  
thrillifying


End file.
